


Episode 5x09 Coda

by TarrynZ



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Episode: s05e09 Lies of Omission, M/M, episode coda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-04-16 11:19:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4623378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TarrynZ/pseuds/TarrynZ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I know I shouldn’t have called, should’ve taken the hint that you not calling back all the other times means you’re done with us, but I don’t have anyone else, and I just really needed to talk to someone. So, I guess that’s it.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just could not deal with the whole Stiles and Scott miscommunication thing, and Theo just really needs a seriously good beatdown, I hope his come-uppance is coming. Stiles has no one, and I could just see him ranting to Derek, and if he had been there, he would have run to Derek for support, and advice, and Derek would have slapped Scott upside the head, werewolf style, or quietly taken Theo out, problem solved. So, this was born out of those frustrations. This season seriously sucks without Derek, it would have been so different if he had been there, IMHO.
> 
> It was really meant to be a short thing. Seriously. It got a bit longer. And porny. Who knew? The smut is coming, I just didn't have time to finish it before going to work, so am uploading in parts. I may change the title if I come up with anything good, for now, it stays as is.

Derek drove for as long as he could before stopping to rest. He had to get back to Beacon Hills, something was seriously wrong, and he was cursing himself for not picking up on it sooner.

Braeden had kept most of Stiles’ messages to herself, and when he found out, he’d freaked out at her. She had simply shrugged and said she thought they had put the cursed town behind them. He still couldn’t understand it himself, but those kids had gotten under his skin. He’d thought he could move on, leave it all in the past, but Stiles’ voicemail had ripped through him, and after a short argument with the mercenary, he had packed his things and jumped in the truck. He didn’t really care that he was leaving her without transport.

Derek woke when his alarm beeped. He’d barely given himself four hours to rest, but he’d functioned on less before.

The long drive gave him time to think, and the last voicemail from Stiles kept repeating over and over in his head.

“I don’t know what’s going on man, Scott won’t talk to me, he won’t _listen_. All he does is trust Theo, and I know. I just know, there’s something off about him. Remember how I said there was something wrong with Matt? Well look how that turned out, right, so why the hell won’t anyone listen to me? God, I just wish you were here, right now, you know? Even if you seemed to screw things up all the time, you never stopped trying, and you always got Scott to listen. He respected you, he respected your knowledge of alphas. And you know how we were always saving each other? Well I needed you to save me the other night, Derek. I kept expecting you to come roaring in, claws and fangs out, but it was just me, I was alone.”

There was silence and some sniffing sounds. 

“I… I killed someone. Not with my own hands, but he’s dead because of me. And I just… I can’t tell Scott, I can’t tell anyone. I keep seeing him in my head, coming at me with those teeth. God, feeling that pain in my shoulder, and…I, I was just so damn scared, man. I don’t know what we’re doing here. I know I shouldn’t have called, should’ve taken the hint that you not calling back all the other times means you’re done with us, but I don’t have anyone else, and I just really needed to talk to someone. So, I guess that’s it.”

If he was honest with himself, it wasn’t the pack he was going back for, it was one person in the pack. If Lydia had left that message, or even Scott, he’d have picked up the phone, and talked to them, not jumped in the car. Knowing Stiles had been in danger, and he’d not been there had flipped something inside of him, and he was no longer able to deny it. Braeden’s lie only reinforced his suspicions, and he finally admitted to himself that he felt more for the young man than he had been willing to acknowledge.

It was raining when he finally crested the mountains and headed down into the main part of town. He’d tried calling Stiles when he hit the borders of Beacon County, but the line was busy.

Pulling up outside the Stilinski house, he saw the jeep parked outside, indicating that Stiles was home. The cruiser wasn’t in the drive, so the Sheriff must be on the late shift. Probably better if they had this conversation without anyone listening in anyway. As he approached, Derek took a closer look at Stiles’ beloved Jeep. What had appeared to be shadows now revealed themselves as deep scratches and dents, the windows had plastic taped over them, and there were scorch marks scattered across the paintwork. The damage to the roof reminded him of cars that had been flipped over. 

He hurried around to the side of the house. If Stiles had been in an accident, he might not be able to come to the door, he might not want to see Derek, and Derek had to know if he was okay.

Grabbing the drainpipe, he swung himself up to the first floor roof, and listened for Stiles’ heartbeat as he headed over to the young man’s window. It was beating quickly, but that was normal for the teen. The Adderall meds and his naturally hyper state kept him on edge. Derek would be more worried if it was slow or sluggish. 

The window squealed as he pushed it up, clearly no one was using it much anymore, and he stepped in over the ledge only to come face to face with a baseball bat and Stiles’ voice shrieking, “Jesus, Derek, what the ever-loving fuck?! I could’ve taken your head off!”

“Nice to see you too, Stiles,” he smirked, pushing the bat out of the way with a finger, and moving over to sit on the bed. 

Stiles just stared at the werewolf, not quite believing his eyes. “What the hell, man?”

Derek’s expression turned serious. “I got your message. I came as soon as I could, why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

Stiles started pacing the room, but at Derek’s words, he rounded on him. “Why didn’t I..? I bloody well did! I’ve been calling you for months, but you never pick up, so I’ve been leaving voice messages, hoping you’d at least reply!”

Derek frowned. “What messages? Stiles, you’ve been calling Braeden all the time, but you’ve never once called me.”

The young man sat down in his computer chair. “I think we were played, man, didn’t think she had it in her. I’m impressed.”

His words twisted something in Derek. A nagging suspicion he’d had ever since he found the voicemail, and confronted Braeden. When he sighed Stiles continued. “Just after you left, I called your cell, letting you know about Peter, and there was no answer, so I left a message. A couple of weeks later, I got a text from an unknown number that said you had lost your phone, and that you had a new number. I’ve been calling and texting you on that number ever since. Any time Braeden picked up, she just said you were in the shower or whatever and she would relay the message. Guess that never happened.”

At his words, Derek’s brows pulled together and his face got darker with rage. He was fuming, and about to start ripping into something with his claws, when a soft whimper from Stiles caught his ear. He’d been leaning back across the table to grab his phone, and his right shoulder had brushed the back of the chair. His left hand automatically raised to cradle his shoulder, and the wolf’s hearing picked up on the skip in his heartbeat.

“Stiles,” he said, the tone heavy with unsaid implications.

Stiles sighed. He’d been able to lie to Scott, and avoid his dad seeing him without his shirt. It wasn’t like anyone else was going to see him naked. Despite them breaking up recently over her new attraction to Theo, Malia had continued to crawl in his window on regular occasions until he had Lydia sit her down and explain why it wasn’t cool, so they had seen very little of each other in the last few days. With no girlfriend, and an absent lacrosse coach cancelling practice for the foreseeable future, he’d not had to show anyone the wound from Donovan.

When he sat there, eyes down, unresponsive, the wolf grew even more concerned. “Stiles,” he said, even more forcefully. “Show me.”

The boy turned in his seat, and pulled the neck of his hoodie down, exposing an ugly rosette of healing flesh. 

Derek leapt from the bed and strode the couple of steps until he was crowding against Stiles. His hands gripped the hoodie and t-shirt underneath and pulled them up and over Stiles’ head so quickly he barely had time to squawk and flail his arms in protest. 

“Hey, easy with the goods, there,” he exclaimed, his hands rushing to cover his shoulder and his chest. While deep down he knew he had nothing to be ashamed of, and Malia could attest to this, he still felt a little exposed and inadequate, considering the perfection he’d seen many times in the shape of a shirtless Derek Hale. 

A hand gently lifted his from his shoulder, and the other traced the wound with light fingertips. “What did this?” Derek whispered, his voice choked with emotion. He was appalled by the ugly shape marring the boy’s skin.

“I thought you’d know, we’re working blind here,” Stiles replied, sighing. He relaxed as rough fingers started rubbing at his neck, while the edges of the healing wound were gently prodded. “We’re calling them chimera because they seem to be some sort of hybrids, but I couldn’t find anything in the Argent bestiary that could leave a mark like that from a hand.”

The fingers stopped moving, and it was then that Stiles realised how weird it was that this was Derek freaking Hale giving him a neck rub. What. The. Hell?!

“This is not a wound from a hand,” Derek started, and Stiles burst out of his chair, the memories of the attack racing through him, sending his heartrate skyrocketing.

“Yeah, well, I’m the one who got grabbed from behind in the fucking school parking lot. I felt the fingers gripping me, and the teeth fucking tearing into my flesh, so I think I know what the hell did this!” his voice rose higher and higher as his rant continued.

“I’m the one who had to listen to him call my dad a coward and a little bitch, and that he was going to eat my fucking legs so that my dad could suffer!”

Stiles was out of control, his whole body shaking as he threw himself around the room in his manic retelling of the incident. 

“I just wanted to get away, I thought if I could just get a head start, I could climb up and be safe, and then someone, someone would come and get me. I didn’t plan to kill him, he just wouldn’t stop, and I was so damn scared. I… I don’t think I was even this scared with Peter or the Alphas. I was all alone, and I had to do _something_ , and I just pulled, and it all came down, and then he was quiet, and when I looked back, oh god, it was right through him. I tried, man, I tried to pull it out, but there was so much blood, and then mercury came pouring out, and he was just gone, just like that, and I didn’t know what to do. What the hell was I supposed to do?!”

Derek had been watching the young man in his tirade, but when the tears started pouring down his face, he just stepped in front of him, and wrapped him up in his arms, holding him tight, and letting him sob against his chest. 

At first Stiles’ body was tense, but he slowly relaxed against the older wolf, and his arms snaked around his waist. Once the tears started flowing, all the emotions and tension of the past few weeks boiled over, and he wept. Derek held him patiently, just letting him get it all out. 

Finally, the shaking stopped, and he felt Stiles sniff against his shirt. He squeezed slightly, and pulled back, loosening his hold around the boy. “Oh god,” Stiles said, pulling away and going to sit on the bed. He reached for the box of tissues and started blowing. “I’m sorry, please don’t kill me.”

Derek frowned at him. “Why would I…?”

Stiles pointed at him. “I got snot on your shirt.”

Looking down, Derek did indeed see a damp spot on his Henley. He shrugged. “It’ll wash out. You got something I could change into? Something that fits?”

At his words, Stiles looked up, open-mouthed. Derek was smirking at him. “Did you just try to make a joke about the time I pimped you out to Danny?”

He just smiled and shrugged. He’d grown a lot since then, and learned to take things less seriously. “He wasn’t really my type.”

Stiles snorted. “Yeah, I know, wrong gender.”

“No, just not my type,” Derek said, wondering why in the hell he was saying these things, now of all times. They hadn’t seen each other in months, and the room was charged with emotion, but he couldn’t stop the words as they started tumbling out, and he found he didn’t really want to any more.

Stiles gaped at the older man, then shook his head and smirked. “You? Yeah right! Like I’m gonna believe that! Beautiful, dangerous, and apparently nutty as hell is your type. Oh, and female, did I forget that?”

Derek took a deep breath and stepped closer, in between the vee of Stiles’ legs. He raised his hands and cupped Stiles’ cheeks, a shocked breath escaping the younger man’s lips as he swooped down and pressed his lips gently against the mouth he had been craving for so long.

Suddenly a hand reached between them and pushed against his chest. Normally he would resist, but he wasn’t expecting it, and he backed up in surprise. Stiles fell back against the bed, his face scrunched up in confusion. “What the hell, man?” 

Derek blinked. Had he read it so wrong? He straightened up, his brows drawn down in consternation. “I’m sorry Stiles, I thought… Oh god, you’re with someone, I just, I didn’t smell… it didn’t seem like you were seeing Malia anymore, and there isn’t any other scent here but yours,” he rubbed his neck awkwardly. He hated this emotional shit, he was so bad at it. 

“I’ll just go, we can talk to Scott tomorrow or something,” he said, heading towards the window.

“Oh, no,” Stiles said, leaping from the bed and pulling him back. “You do not get to drop back into my life like this, fucking kiss me like I’ve been waiting for for so long, and then run off!”

Derek’s mind was swirling. Did he just say…? Before he could think of a suitable question, Stiles huffed, and stepped into his space. He’d grown a couple of inches since they’d parted in Mexico, and were now equal in height. Derek was still broader in the shoulder and bulkier, but he’d toned down a bit since reverting to beta status, and Stiles was no longer the skinny sixteen year old from that day in the woods. All this registered in the split second as Stiles leaned in and claimed his mouth in a searing, sloppy kiss.

His mind short-circuited for a moment as his body worked on autopilot, responding to the kiss and parting his lips to allow Stiles’ tongue entrance. They moaned together as their tongues touched, the kiss deepening. Stiles’ hands on his hips pulling him closer jolted him back, and his earlier train of thought about the day they first met crashed in with shocking clarity, reminding him of one important point.

He pulled away hastily. “We can’t, Stiles.”

Stiles looked at him incredulously. “You started this, Derek, what the hell?”

“I’m sorry, I never should have, I just remembered that for all the shit we’ve been through, you’re still only 17, Stiles.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Stiles frowned. “I’ll be 18 in a few weeks, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t really feel like a kid anymore, so I don’t give a shit about any of that. I’ve been possessed by a fucking thousand year old fox-demon, so I may only be 17, but I’m more like thirty when it comes to life.”

Derek considered his words, and threw caution to the wind, grabbing the teen and claiming his mouth once again. He walked forward, forcing Stiles to back up until his legs hit the bed. He overbalanced, falling back, and Derek followed, crouching over him, a knee on the edge of the bed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The porny conclusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, I'm so sorry I took so long to post the rest of this. I actually didn't realise I left y'all hanging. Not beta'd, any errors are my own.

Stiles broke the kiss with a pant; he looked up and his breath hitched. Derek smirked down at the young man, hearing his heartbeat stutter a little. “What is it?”

Blushing, Stiles turned his head to the side, wriggling his way further up the bed. “Nothing. It’s just. You, here, looming over me. Kinda one of my wet dreams come to life.”

Derek stood back up, and toed his shoes off while pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it down on the floor. A whimper from the bed had him looking down. Stiles was staring at him, his hand palming his crotch, either rubbing or trying to hold himself back, he wasn’t sure. “Oh god, and it just gets better,” the young man muttered softly. 

The wolf just raised an eyebrow, before a wicked thought went through his head. He ran his hands down his torso, and the whimpers from Stiles increased. This was not how he usually did things, but he felt reckless, a little playful. He always had to find a snarky come back whenever he was around Stiles, and usually his expressive eyebrows were enough, but this was different. His hands stopped at the waistband of his jeans, and he heard the soft intake of breath. “Breath Stiles,” he said, looking up when he realised the boy was silent.

He then proceeded to take off his jeans in the most provocative way he could. By the time they were off, along with his underwear, he was just as hard as the boy lying on the bed. He moved to the bed, leaning down to cover Stiles’ body with his own. Stiles bucked his hips up at the contact, and he felt the hot brand of his cock through the denim covering him. Hands clutched at his back as he bent down to kiss and nuzzle at Stiles’ neck.

He made his way slowly down the young man’s body, licking and sucking at various points, paying special attention to his nipples when the first contact of his mouth on one had Stiles arching his back and yelling out. “Sensitive?” he questioned, looking up at Stiles with a grin.

“I didn’t know,” Stiles breathed out, arousal clouding his thoughts. “Malia never…”

Derek stopped him with a kiss. He didn’t want to hear about Malia right now. Resuming his downward motion, he nosed at the bulge in Stiles’ jeans before undoing the button and sliding the zip down. He stopped with his hands on the waistband of the denim, Stiles’ nervous heartbeat thudding in his ears. He looked up into whiskey-brown eyes, the colour always having mesmerised him, being so close to beta-gold. “Still good?”

Stiles snorted. “I’m not the blushing virgin I was when we first met Derek, so hurry up and fuck me.”

Derek paused. “That what you want?” At Stiles’ exaggerated eye-roll, he clarified, “I mean, you could fuck me, if you want.”

The cock underneath him twitched wildly at that, and Stiles moaned, dropping his head back. “Jesus Derek, don’t say things like that unless you want this to be over before it starts.” He raised his head, and saw that Derek was still looking at him, waiting. “I so want to do that, sometime, yeah, but right now, I want you in me, I want to feel what that’s like.”

Derek moaned. He’d been holding it together pretty well up until this point, but Stiles’ words were getting to him. Taking a deep breath, which ended up being a mistake thanks to the heavy scent of arousal pouring off the young man beneath him, he finished removing Stiles’ pants and briefs, leaving him naked and splayed out on the bed.

“Lube?” he asked hoarsely, and plucked the tube out of the air once Stiles had dug it out from beneath his pillows and thrown it at him. 

Derek slicked his fingers, and settled himself between the young man’s legs. Stiles, for his part, could barely believe this was happening. He’d imagined this exact scenario many times when jerking off, but with the reality before him all its naked-Derek-Hale-glory, he was a mess of arousal and emotions. The cold of Derek’s lube-slick fingers at his entrance brought him back to reality though, and he flinched ever so slightly. 

“Sorry,” Derek said, “Probably should have warmed that up a little.” He paused a moment, considering. “You ever do this before?”

Stiles looked up at him, his eyes fluttering closed for a second as the wolf’s finger slowly started to breach his body. He gasped, it was intense knowing that was someone else’s finger up there. At a sound of his name, he tried to gather enough brain cells to answer. “I’ve done this myself. Curious, you know. Even bought a dildo when we were in Mexico, but I haven’t had much chance to use it. Oh god.” The last came as Derek started moving the single digit in and out of Stiles’ body, mimicking what he would do later with his dick. 

Derek eased his finger in and out, trying for two but the teen was too tense. He adjusted his position on the bed, leaning down to lick a stripe up Stiles’ hard cock. He was just starting to get into that, curling his tongue around the head, when Stiles grabbed him, and pulled him up and off. “Stop. Stop.”

He froze. Stiles groaned. “No, I meant, if you’d carried on, I was going to blow, man.” He kissed Derek, who tentatively started moving his finger again. As Stiles relaxed, concentrating on kissing Derek, the second finger slid in easily. His fingers brushed something on the way out, and Stiles jerked, moaning as he pulled his mouth back. “Jesus, Derek, now, you need to fuck me now.”

Derek fumbled, slotting three fingers against his opening. “Just one more, Stiles, you’ll need it, believe me.”

Stiles barked a laugh at that. “You trying to tell me you have a big dick? Cos I saw it already man, and while it’s pretty spectacular, I don’t think we’re talking baseball bat here.”

Derek bit at his neck to get him to shut up. “If you don’t want this to hurt, let me stretch you properly, believe me, I know,” he mumbled softly into the boy’s skin. 

Stiles stilled a little, wondering again at the epic shit that had been Derek’s life since the fire that stole his family away. Three fingers pushing their way in derailed his train of thought, and he started making breathy whines at the feeling of his body adjusting. The in and out motion of Derek’s fingers was interspersed with jolts of fire whenever he brushed Stiles’ prostate. 

Finally Derek pulled out, grabbing the tube of lube and coating his dick. Stiles propped himself up on his elbows to watch, fascinated by the sight of an uncut dick and what Derek was doing with the foreskin. 

Derek stopped, and slapped Stiles on the thigh. “Roll over.” Stiles complied without arguing, for once, though he did bite his tongue on a dog joke. He’d read enough online to know it was easier from behind the first time, and positioned himself on his knees and forearms, feeling strangely vulnerable with his ass in the air. 

A strangled sound left Derek at the sight; he quickly shuffled between Stiles’ knees, lined up and started pushing in. He froze as the muscles around him tightened, and Stiles sucked in a sharp breath. “Don’t stop,” came the gasping voice from beneath him, and he kept going until the head popped in. “You know I was kidding about the baseball bat comment, now I’m not so sure.”

He leaned forward, and this shifted him inside Stiles, causing the young man to groan again. He placed his hands over Stiles’ on the bed, interlacing their fingers while he nosed along the back of his neck. He kissed and sucked his way to Stiles’ ear, and by the time he was nibbling at his lobe, his hips were flush against the other man’s. Derek shifted his hips back and forth shallowly as he made his way across to the other ear with his mouth. The faint scent of blood tickled his nose, and he turned his head to see the healing wound on the back of Stiles’ right shoulder. Without thinking, he placed a kiss there. A jolt of lust surged through Stiles. “Do that again,” he gasped out. Derek licked over the wound, and felt Stiles shudder beneath him, relaxing as arousal started to take over.

Rearing back, he gripped him tightly by the hips, and withdrew, leaving just the head inside the tight pucker. He was debating whether to slide in slow and easy, or hard and fast, when Stiles gasped out “Do it.” He slammed home and Stiles yelled out, pleasure evident in his tone. That set the pace, and it was fast and hard, skin slapping, chests heaving. 

He actually smelled Stiles’ orgasm approaching, and picked up the pace a little, pounding away at his prostate until the teen’s body tightened around him, Stiles gasping out as he spilled onto the sheets below. The orgasm kick-started his own, and he growled as he emptied himself into the hot willing body beneath him. 

Pulling out, he collapsed down onto his back on the bed, dragging Stiles over with him. They lay gasping together, side by side. “So, no knot?” Stiles quipped, once his breathing was under control.

“Not in this form,” he shot back, cutting his eyes across to Stiles when he heard spluttering beside him. “I don’t even want to know how you know that,” the young man said, but he could tell from his heartbeat that that was a lie. 

He sat up, started to get up from the bed when Stiles grabbed his arm. “Do you have to go?” Derek looked back, saw the change in Stiles as his expression fell. “I mean, dad’s on shift all night, and your place is probably all dusty and what not. Do you even still have the loft?” With a start, Derek recognised that expression, one he hadn’t seen on Stiles’ face in a long time. He was scared. 

Laying back down, he pulled Stiles in, until he was the little spoon, wrapping his arm tight around the young man’s waist. He pressed his nose in against his neck. “Go to sleep Stiles, I’ll stay.” The ‘I’ll protect you’ was implied, and he felt him relax against him. The rest they could deal with in the morning.


End file.
